Chapter 281. Sweet Julie IV

Chapter 281: 281. Sweet Julie IV

Juliette

Juliette went rigid.

No.

Absolutely not.

There was a severed head approximately ten feet away. There was a dead body with several missing parts. There was blood on the walls and floors. And more importantly, there was a ten-foot devil between her legs--

The beast licked higher and Juliette’s breath stuttered.

The two points of its tongue moved independently as they swept over her skin, one following the wound while the other brushed uninjured flesh beside it. Juliette felt every inch of the wet, long drag.

She felt the heat.

Heat gathering beneath her skin. Heat winding through her stomach. Heat making her breathing turn shallow for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with terror.

She didn’t understand.

She wasn’t foolish enough to mistake this creature for harmless. She had watched it kill someone. She could still see and smell the blood.

She should have been trying to escape. She should’ve run outside and screamed for the sentries.

Instead some treacherous, insane part of her had begun anticipating the next sweep of its tongue. Wanting it.

Had it pinned her, frightened her, snarled at her, Juliette could have hated it properly. She could have kicked and screamed and fought until either she escaped or it ate her.

But it didn’t hurt her. In fact, it never had. It’d saved her life and it was only now healing her. Perhaps, it was she who was depraved and sex and touch starved for feeling such vile things.

"S-stop," she whispered.

The beast growled against her skin and the sound found its way to the tip of her toes and her breasts, curling the former and tightening the latter. Her thighs trembled an inch apart and Juliette bit her bottom lip, shaking her head profusely.

This was not happening. This couldn’t be real--

"Oh, gods," she whimpered as the gash began knitting, the sting fading into a pulsing warmth that spread higher, up to the crease of her thigh and into her most intimate spot where her panties were now soaked.

"That isn’t--" She lost her voice and tried again. "You can’t--I-It’s closed--Y-you can s-stop now--"

The first touch against her centre wasn’t even direct. Just the forked tip tracing the damp edge of her through her thong, splitting around her folds, one side and then the other, so she felt two strokes where there should have been one.

"Oh gods," she cried, her hand flying to its shoulder before she could stop herself. The muscles under its fur was hard and scorching to touch. It was fitting, for it was a creature that belonged in hell.

It shuddered under her touch and Juliette stared at her own hand in horror. Why was she even touching it? Why were her legs spreading wider?

The tongue worked like a seeking hand, running down the dripping wetness of her panties, before pushing it to the side and entering her.

Juliette’s hips lifted, and though she hated that they did, a breath escaped her.

"Please."

She did not know what she was begging for.

One point of its forked tongue dragged over her swollen, aching clit, while the other slid lower, tasting her, dipping just inside.

Juliette’s mouth fell open around a soundless cry. Her fingers curled on the beast’s matted fur and twisted.

"Goddess forgive me," she thought as her hips rocked forward and her eyes rolled back in her head. "For I have sinned. Gravely."

It licked her slowly, thoroughly, over and over that same spot, like it knew it was just enough to drive her mad and not enough to bring her over the edge.

Her head dropped back, her eyes glazed on the ceiling as she tried to think of the headless man across the room. Tried to think of her dead grandmother. Tried to think of anything that would make this stop feeling good.

Nothing worked.

"Wait," she sobbed. "I--I can’t--something’s--"

Both points slid into her wet entrance and she gasped as she felt it curl on itself inside her, hardened like fingers before curling against a spot deeper than she’d ever dared to touch herself.

Juliette’s back arched, her head dropping back against the floor as she moaned. The pleasure had gathered so fast, she didn’t expect the implosion that came with it.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip to silence the unholy sound but it still leaked out, high pitched like a mewl.

Juliette came with a sob, thighs clamping around a skull that was not human, pushing and thrusting her hips against a tongue that kept splitting and stroking her through it like it was in no rush.

It was too much, little waves of aftershock jumping through her every time those two points dragged over her again, and she could feel how wet she was, how she was dripping onto its muzzle, how her body kept offering itself up even as she trembled with fear.

"Oh goddess--stop--please--no, don’t stop--"

She wanted it to end. She wanted it never to end. Juliette was not sure what she wanted.

But she soon felt something that made her pause. Perhaps it was the ripple of the skin under her palm or the shape of the mouth between her legs changing, but Juliette looked down.

And wished she hadn’t.

The muzzle shortened. The fur under her palms thinned, turned to smooth, hot skin. The massive head between her thighs narrowed, and the tongue that had been too long, too split, began to thicken into something almost human, still forked at the tip, still licking her, still there.

Ridged horns drew back into glossy black hair. The massive shoulders folded inward and Juliette snatched her hand back in fear. Bone snapped, finding new arrangements into a taller, tanned, muscled limbs.

Juliette had begun to hyperventilate.

That glowing green stare stayed locked on her face the whole time, even as the beast’s features pulled toward a man’s. A delicate jaw. A mouth. A nose. Wickedly curved lips. Webbed, talons shrunk into fingers that were still too large.

It made a sound against her that was no longer a growl. Almost a groan. "Julie," it-he?--said.

Juliette finally found her voice, and she screamed, clambering to her feet.

She knew that face.

She’d seen it in her dreams every night. She recognized the sleek fall of dark hair, his chiseled face and sculpted jaw, those brilliant green eyes, his sensual lips, his taut abdomen. She had kissed every smooth ripple in her dreams. She’d done so not even an hour ago.

Seeing him come alive in front of her was like a fist to her stomach and her knees weakened.

He exhaled, his limbs stretching and straightening as he prowled towards her. For each step of his, she shuffled two steps back.

"You didn’t seem quite as frightened when I had my tongue in your cunt, Julie," he purred and the sound of her name on his tongue made her insides clench.